The mayor, hugging his soot-stained daughter, barely even glanced their way. “You’re too late,’” he said.
Claire’s knees went out from under her. It came to her in a blinding rush—the fire, the smoke, the terror. Shane. Oh no, no, it couldn’t be….
The mayor must have realized what she was thinking, and what Eve was thinking, too, from the expressions on their faces, because he looked momentarily annoyed. “No, not that,’” he said. “Richard said you were en route. I said I’d wait. I don’t break my word.’”
“Much,’” Eve muttered, and covered it with a fake cough. “Okay, then why are we too late?’”
“He’s already gone,’” the mayor said. “His father staged an attack just before dawn, when our attention was on the warehouse fire. Broke Shane and the other one out of the cages, killed five of my men. They were heading out of town, but we’ve got them cornered this time. It’ll all be over soon.’”
“But—Shane!’” Claire looked at him pleadingly. “We kept our part of the bargain—please, can’t you just let him go?’”
Mayor Morrell frowned at her. “Our agreement was that I’d let him go if you brought my daughter back. Well, he’s free. If he gets himself killed trying to save his no-good father, that’s no business of mine,’” the mayor said. He put his arm around Monica and Richard. “Come on, kids. You can tell me what happened.’”
“I’ll tell you what happened,’” Eve said angrily. “We saved both of their lives. You can thank us for that anytime, by the way.’”
From the glare he threw Eve, the mayor really didn’t find that funny. “If you hadn’t put them in danger in the first place, none of this would have happened,’” he said. “Consider yourselves lucky that I don’t toss you in jail for aiding and abetting a vampire hunter. Now, if you want my advice, go home.’” He kissed his daughter’s filthy hair. “Come on, princess.’”
“Dad,’” Richard said. “She’s right. They did save our lives.’”
The mayor looked more than just annoyed now, at this minor rebellion in the family ranks. “Son, I know that you may feel some gratitude toward these girls, but—’”
“Just tell us where Shane is,’” Claire said. “Please. That’s all we want.’”
The two Morrell men exchanged long looks, and then Richard said, “You know the old hospital? The one on Grand Street?’”
Eve nodded. “Our Lady? I thought they tore that thing down.’”
“Scheduled for demolition at the end of the week,’” Richard said. “I’ll take you there.’”
Claire almost cried; she was so relieved. Not that the problem was solved—it wasn’t—but at least they had another step to take.
“Richard,’” the mayor said. “You don’t owe them anything.’”
“I do, though.’” Richard looked from Eve, to Claire. “And I won’t forget it.’”
Eve grinned. “Awww. Don’t worry, Officer. We won’t let you.’”
There were vampires out in the daytime. Claire figured that was unusual, but she realized just how unusual when Richard Morrell, slowing the police car to a crawl, whistled. “Oliver’s called out the troops,’” he said. “Not good for your friend. Or his father.’”
The streets around the massive bulk of the old hospital were lined with cars…big cars, dark-tinted windows. Lots of police cars, too, but it was those other autos that looked…menacing.
As did the people standing in shadows, surrounding the building. Some wore heavy coats and hats, even in the oppressive heat. There had to be at least a hundred gathered, and a lot of them were vampires.
And right in the center, standing right at the edge of the border of sunlight and shadow, stood Oliver. He was wearing a long black leather coat, and a leather broad-brimmed hat, and his hands were cased in gloves.
“Oh, man. I don’t think you guys are going to do any good here,’” Richard said. Oliver’s head turned toward them, and he stepped out into the sunlight. The vampire approached, moving at a slow, leisurely pace. “Maybe I ought to take you on home.’”
In less time than it took to tell Richard no, Oliver had crossed the open space and jerked open the back door of the police cruiser. “Maybe you should join us instead,’” Oliver said, and bared his teeth in a smile. “Ah, Michael. Out of the house at last, I see. Felicitations on your birthday. I would suggest, for your own safety, that you stay strictly in the shadows this morning. Not that you’ll have the strength to do anything else.’”
And he grabbed Claire, who was sitting nearest the door, by the throat.
Claire heard Michael and Eve yelling, and felt Eve trying to hold on to her, but there was no way Eve could match Oliver’s strength. He simply pulled Claire out of the car like a rag doll, his fingers wrapped cruelly tight around her throat, and dragged her out into the street.
“Shane! Shane Collins!’” he shouted. “I have something for you! I want you to watch this very carefully!’”
Claire grabbed at his hand with both of her own, trying to pry his grip free, but it was no good. He knew just how tightly to hold on without quite crushing her throat or cutting off her breathing. She fought back another panicked bout of coughing, and tried to think of something, anything, to do.
“I’m going to kill this girl,’” Oliver continued, “unless she swears herself to me and my service, in front of all of these witnesses. Shane, you can save her by making the same deal. You have two minutes to consider your decision.’”
“Why?’” Claire whispered. It came out as a mouse squeak, barely audible. Oliver, who was staring at the decaying facade of the old hospital, with its weather-stained weeping angels and molding baroque stonework, turned his attention briefly to her. The morning was warm and cloudless, the sun a hot brass penny in a bright blue sky. It seemed wrong for a vampire to be out here.
He wasn’t even sweating.
“Why what, Claire? It’s an imprecise question. You have a better mind than that.’”
She fought for breath, helplessly clawing at his fingers. “Why…kill Brandon?’”
He lost his smile, and his eyes turned wary. “Clever,’” he said. “Cleverness may not be good for you after all. The question you should be asking is, why do I want your service?’”
“All right,’” she wheezed. “Why?’”
“Because Amelie has some use for you,’” he said. “And I am not accustomed to giving Amelie what she wants. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with history. But, sadly, I’m making it your problem. Cheer up; if your boyfriend swears on your behalf, I’ll keep him alive. Let you see him from time to time. Star-crossed lovers are so entertaining.’”
Amelie didn’t seem to have much of a use for her, Claire reflected, but she didn’t argue about it. Couldn’t, in fact. Couldn’t do much of anything but stand on tiptoe, gag for each breath, and hope that somehow, she’d figure a way out of this stupid situation that she’d gotten herself into. Again.
“One minute!’” Oliver called. There was movement inside of the building, flickers at the windows. “Well. It appears we have a domestic disturbance.’”
What he meant was, Shane’s dad was kicking the crap out of him. Claire struggled to see what was going on, but Oliver’s grip was too tight. She could see only from the corner of her eye, and what she could see wasn’t good. Shane was in the doorway of the hospital, trying to get free, but someone dragged him back.
“Thirty seconds!’” Oliver announced. “Well, this is coming down to the wire. I’m a bit surprised, Claire. The boy really is fighting for the chance to save you. You should be very impressed.’”
“You should take your hands off of her, Oliver,’” said a voice from behind them, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped. “Seriously. I’m not in a good mood, I’m tired, and I just want to go home.’”
“Richard,’” Oliver said, and turned to regard him. “You look like hell, my friend. Don’t you think you should go be with your family, instead of worrying about these—outcasts?’”